


Hang-Ups

by Princess_Pinky



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Family, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-21
Updated: 2013-04-21
Packaged: 2017-12-09 01:35:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/768449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princess_Pinky/pseuds/Princess_Pinky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The TARDIS can't stand The Doctor's newest companion and she needs to rant, so she seeks out the only person that can hear her out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hang-Ups

**Author's Note:**

> After today's episode, I'm even more curious to see how River will react to Clara in the season seven finale, given that her "mother" clearly thinks of Clara as an offending stray. Mild spoilers for "Hide."

 

_**Hang-Ups** _

River traipsed around the console, her hands sweeping the controls in the dim blue-silver light. It wasn't the first time she'd seen this desktop, not by any stretch of an extensive Gallifreyan imagination, but it was the first time she'd really taken the time to inspect all the new gears by hand. She shied away from doing so before because it was a visual reminder that her parents had long since been trapped in the past. She missed the warm oranges, yellows, and reds of the former TARDIS interior; she missed the way she could hang her heels on the monitor; she missed her family.

_A cow. She called me a cow!_

Usually the TARDIS's telepathic connection—a unique link that had formed back in utero—gave River a gooey feeling inside, the way she used to feel in her second incarnation, when Amelia would play with her hair and if she closed her eyes, she could pretend that she was really the child she was pretending to be and Amelia was her mother, the proper age a mother should be relative to her daughter, and that she was intentionally acting as a mother, instead of a best friend. But this time the TARDIS's connection was sharp, like static electricity, occasionally causing River to wince and touch a finger or two to her temple.

" _The only mystery worth solving" my time rotors! What is he thinking? At least he hasn't given her a key yet._

"Or what?" River said, chuckling just a bit. "You'll change the locks?"

_They're my locks to change._

"I'll give you that." River plotted herself into the pilot's chair. "I'm sure she's not that bad," she said softly.

An outward groan of gears erupted across the whole of the console room, followed by a flashing of lights like a carnival ride. _Just wait 'til you meet her! In fact, I could wake her up right now. I'll just drop the heater in her room to minus—_

"No!" River sat up and raised her index finger. "I'll meet her when I'm supposed to meet her and not a second before."

_Time can be rewritten._

The way the message entered River's brain felt like a teeming pressure behind her eyes, though not serious enough to verge into headache territory. Telepathic smugness, that was the only way to describe it. River rolled her eyes. "Don't you dare."

There was a gritty sound, like a car motor that wouldn't turn over. _The nerve of that girl, coming into my home and disrespecting me. She's the stray here! If it weren't for his sake…_

River nodded as the message flickered out mid-thought. "He needs her."

_He needs you._

"My parents were strays once too, were they not?" River looked around the room. Even with the heat running full blast—she could feel the almost agonizingly tickling of sweaty beads gathering behind the bend of her knees and gliding down her bare thighs when they got too heavy—it was just _so_ cold. She suspected that, in her own way, the TARDIS was still grieving her parents too.

There was a clacking, akin to something rattling beneath the hood of an old pickup truck. _The Orangey Girl wasn't the worst pet he's ever taken in…and I quite like the Pretty One._

It didn't escape River that the TARDIS referred to her preference for her father in the present tense. "He needs someone to ground him. I'm his anti-gravity."

_You could still come around more often than you do. You're not in that insufferable Stormcage anymore._

"I have a job. My students need me."

_I'm a time machine._

"You know that's not the point."

The heater kicked off and the room suddenly fell several degrees.

"Don't pout… _mum_."

There was silence for a moment, not even the constant electric hum of the console was audible. Then, slowly: _The Orangey Girl would be jealous._

"She's not here," River replied, surprising herself with her own bitterness. Her throat swelled in time with the salt water in her eyes. She used a swathe of her sunshine colored curls to dab her eyes. "And anyway," she said, softer, "she knows what you are to me. I don't think she'd take issue." Although the TARDIS didn't comment on it, River was sure that she recognized her use of _know_.

The silver discs containing the names of The Doctor's former companions, at least the ones the TARDIS had loved, rotated above the console, the noise like a pillowed whimper. _He kissed her._

River's brows rose and she sat a little straighter. "Did he?"

_Well…she kissed him…and she doesn't remember it because it was the Victorian version. But still._

River slunk back into the seat. "You can't blame them for being attracted to him."

_He's not theirs. He's My Thief; he's your husband._

"Nobody owns The Doctor."

_Speak for yourself._

River smirked. "Speaking of my husband, where is he now anyway?"

_Sleeping._

"He rarely sleeps."

_This is one of those rare times. Why do you think I showed up in your bedroom tonight? I got tired of waiting for you to come find us._

River bowed her head. "I wasn't ready," she admitted, near inaudibly.

_I know._

"And I won't stay. Not yet."

There was a lull in the motors, like a sigh. _I know._

River pushed herself out of the pilot's seat and looked at the floor, searching for a pair of feathery slippers in the darkness. "I have an early day tomorrow," she announced regretfully. She located the deep sapphire colored shoes and slipped into them, relishing the wispy softness kissing her toes. She paused on her way towards the door, looking wistfully at the central pillar and missing the bobbing blown glass. She let her lungs deflate and carried herself out of the door, which refused to shut even after she'd walked out.

_Stay._

The thought tugged at her mind; she could feel it all the way out to her scalp. It was so quiet, so pleading, that it almost broke her resolve. "You know what happened last time I stayed with him. It took me stranding him with Vastra and Jenny to get him back on his feet. I can't risk that again."

_That's a poor excuse, Child._

"Maybe," River agreed. She turned to face the right door, her eyes glancing over the instruction sign, and then she patted the spot where the outside phone was hidden. "We all have our hang-ups," she said. "The Doctor needs to work through his and I need to work through mine. And evidently, you and Clara need to work through yours."

_And if we don't?_

River smiled sadly. "Just don't rush into changing the locks." With that, she pulled the door shut. That night she crawled into bed and fell asleep beneath the maternal glow of her second mother.


End file.
